


the night before

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Hangover, M/M, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “God, I’msointo you,” drunk Simon says, dropping his head to rest against Jace’s shoulder. “When we get home, can youpleaseget into me?”(or, the morning after Magnus and Alec's engagement party, Simon wakes up extremely hungover and discovers that he posted someveryawkward videos on Snapchat.Jace thinks the whole situation is hilarious and, well, that makes one of them.)





	the night before

**Author's Note:**

> written for the following prompt, which was originally from Round 1, from the Shadowhunters Prompt Ficathon: _Jace/Simon - I'm into you, get into me._
> 
> Background ships: Alec/Magnus and Clary/Izzy.
> 
> Title burrowed from [the song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9FOX2RvfZY) by The Beatles.

The first thing Simon notices when he wakes up is that his head feels about three sizes too small, and it’s throbbing like some weird kind of second heart, like it might just explode at any minute.

With a groan, he rolls over in an attempt to shove his face into the pillow on Jace’s side of the bed, but that turns out to be a horrendous mistake. The blackout curtains hanging over the window on that side of the room are parted by two inches, and the gap is just wide enough for a sunbeam to strike him directly in the eyes. 

The throbbing filling his skull spikes as he gives up on finding Jace’s pillow and just pulls the blanket over his head instead. 

While he waits for the pain to (hopefully) abate, he goes back over the previous night in his mind. The last thing he remembers with any real clarity is sitting on Magnus’ balcony with Clary, passing a bottle of wine back and forth and taking ridiculous selfies. After that, everything is a blur. He doesn’t even remember leaving the party.

Thankfully, he can make an educated guess as to how he made it back to his own bed. 

Right on cue, there’s a single knock on the door, followed by it slowly creaking open. The scents of breakfast, of fresh coffee and turkey bacon, precede Jace’s arrival into the room and, rolling away from the direction of the window, Simon carefully worms his head out from underneath the blanket. 

Thankfully, his hangover doesn’t seem to be the kind that leaves him on his knees in the bathroom most of the day. Some greasy food might be just what he needs. 

“Hey,” Jace says, shifting the tray to one hand and effortlessly balancing it as he moves books and an old glass of water off their nightstand. “You feel up to eating?” 

“That’s about the only thing I feel up to doing,” Simon mumbles. “Can you close the curtains?” 

“That bad, huh?” Jace asks, setting the tray down on the nightstand and climbing onto the bed. With a whoosh, the gap in the curtain closes, plunging the room into blessed darkness that is broken, once again, when Jace flicks on the standing lamp near the bed. 

Thankfully, the light is softer, courtesy of a failing bulb that they should really change soon, and Simon only winces a little as he slowly pulls himself into a seated position, back against the headboard. 

“God, how much did I drink?” he asks, grabbing a mug of coffee first and inhaling deeply. 

“I don’t know,” Jace replies, settling on the edge of the bed, heaped plate balanced across his knees. “I played two games of pool with Alec, and by the time I came back, you and Clary were wasted.” 

“Did she make it home okay?” 

“She’s fine. Izzy got her home in one piece and, based on the last text she sent me, she’s going to be spending most of the morning holding Clary’s hair back.” 

“At least I didn’t get that part,” Simon says, taking a small sip of coffee, hoping that it will get rid of the godawful taste in his mouth. “Just feels like my brain is going to leak out of my ears.” 

“Thank you for that vivid mental image,” Jace mutters, forking a clump of scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Really what I needed to hear when I’m eating.” 

“Sorry.” Putting the mug back on the nightstand for the time being, Simon glances around and pats the mattress on either side of him, glancing down into the gap beside the bed. “Have you seen my phone?” 

Jace freezes for a moment, fork raised halfway to his mouth again, before he sighs and sets the fork down on his plate. 

It’s a small reaction, but it’s enough to make anxiety start thrumming through Simon’s already pained brain. 

“Oh God, what did I do?” he groans as Jace reaches into the small drawer set into their nightstand and pulls out Simon’s phone. 

“It’s probably easier for you to just see it,” Jace says, pressing the phone into Simon’s hand. “Go look at your Snapchat story.” 

The anxiety upgrades to full-on dread. 

He notices that he has no less than ten missed text messages, one voicemail, and a bunch of other notifications, and while it pains him to leave them unread, he needs to know what Jace is talking about first. He opens the app and swipes until he’s able to see his own story. 

The preview image is his own face in blurry close-up, which is _never_ a good sign. Steeling himself, he presses the image and turns the volume up as loud as it will go, trying to prepare himself for the worst. 

The first few pictures are from earlier in the day; shots from brunch with Clary, an awesome piece of graffiti he found on the walk home, pre-game selfies that he actually remembers taking. 

But then the videos start, and it all goes downhill from there. 

The first one is dark and shaky, apparently shot out on Magnus’ balcony. Clary is pressed against his side, giggling loudly, and after four seconds of Simon trying to stammer out _something,_ he bursts out laughing as well.

The next three are the same. In the fourth, the two of them finally manage to say, “Congratulations Magnus and Alec!”, their voices so loud that the video’s sound crackles. 

“These aren’t too terrible,” he says cautiously, glancing up at Jace in the hope that he’ll see something encouraging. 

Instead, Jace just says, “Keep watching,” and goes back to eating his eggs with a half-smirk that is somehow one of the fear-inducing things Simon has ever seen. 

When the next ten second clip starts, the scene has changed to the backseat of a car. It’s dark, but there’s enough illumination coming in from nearby streetlights that Simon can still make out that the subject of the video is Jace, caught in a blurry, unflattering close-up. 

“Man, you’re _really_ attractive,” the drunken version of Simon slurs, hand reaching into the frame and sliding into Jace’s hair. “Like, _unfairly_ attractive.” 

“I know,” the Jace in the video replies with a wink. “You’re lucky to have me.” 

The next clip is shot from the forward-facing camera on Simon’s camera. Both of them are in the frame, pressed shoulder to shoulder, and there’s a wide grin on Simon’s face, one that he knows can only mean that something horribly sappy is about to come out of his mouth.

Unfortunately, there’s no time to prepare himself for whatever it might be. 

“God, I’m _so_ into you,” drunk Simon says, dropping his head to rest against Jace’s shoulder. “When we get home, can you _please_ get into me?” 

The clip ends before Simon can see Jace’s reaction. It’s the last one in the story, and he drops his phone into his lap. 

“Tell me I didn’t just see that,” he says, hoping that the whole thing was somehow just a bad dream, brought on by his migraine. 

“You definitely did,” Jace replies and, damn him, he looks like he’s about to burst out laughing at any moment. “The cab driver thought it was funny.” 

“Well, good for them,” Simon groans, burying his face into his hands. There are definitely worse things that he could have broadcast on Snapchat, but this is still bad; he has his sister on there, Clary’s stepdad, his own _mother_ , and it’s all too likely that all of them saw his videos. 

(He knows that there’s a way you can check to see who exactly viewed your story, but that would just give him confirmation that he really doesn’t need right now.) 

“If I’d known you were actually posting them, I would have tried to stop you,” Jace says, twisting slightly so that he’s fully facing Simon. “But you were just saving them to your phone. You must have uploaded them all when we got home.” 

“Damn it,” Simon groans. “Why does this never happen to you?” 

“Impeccable self-restraint,” Jace deadpans, grabbing Simon’s plate from the nightstand and passing it to him. “It could have been worse.” 

“I don’t want to think about that possibility right now,” Simon replies as he scrolls through his other notifications. About half of the missed texts are from Clary. Three are from his sister, with the most recent one reading: _just how much did you drink last night?_

Simon keeps scrolling, only to realize that his voicemail is from his mother. 

“That’s it,” he says, turning the phone off and tossing it towards the foot of the bed. “When I’m done eating, I’m going back to sleep until those videos are wiped from my story. How long do I have to wait?” 

“Give or take sixteen hours,” Jace answers with a shrug. “If you want, I could ‘get into you.’ That could take up some time.” 

Simon grabs Jace’s pillow and thwacks him in the back of the head with it before going back to shoveling food into his mouth. 

The next time he decides to drink so heavily (which, realistically, will probably be when Magnus decides to throw another one of his spontaneous parties), he’s going to give Jace his phone at the beginning of the night. 

Maybe, by that point, he’ll be able to look his mom and Luke in the eye without turning bright red. 

At the very least, he can only hope.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
